Spark
by Quetzal1
Summary: Inspiration sometimes comes from the unlikeliest of sources


Author's note: I wanted to take a little break from my usual and do something different and this is it. The only thing that's mine is the story. The characters and everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling. I did this strictly for the fun of it. Feel free to comment and let me know what you think. There's more at the end so I don't bore you right now.

Spark  
>By Quetzal1<p>

It had been a lengthy day, and despite already being in bed, it would be a while longer before Rose Zeller rested. First she had to take care of something. It was far past curfew, farther than she preferred but it couldn't be helped. She would have ordinarily been fighting hard to stay awake this late, but her unease at what she was about to attempt kept her alert. It took her roommates what felt like forever to go to sleep. Their chatter about cute boys and complaints about homework continued on and on until Rose grit her teeth in frustration. She wasn't included in the discussion, having been declared "weird" months ago, and they were completely indifferent to the fact that they might be disturbing her. At least they mostly ignored her and weren't actively and inexplicably hostile like some of the students in her classes. And the older kids were no source of comfort either. The banal conversations eventually died away and were replaced with quiet, even breathing and soft snoring.

Finally! Rose eased out of bed and quietly put on her dressing gown and slippers. She slid a hand beneath her pillow to retrieve a small bundle hidden there since shortly after dinner, and then silently exited, taking great care to avoid squeaky spots on the floor. A long hallway led to the common room. If any of the fifth or seventh year students remained up, laboring over their massive homework assignments, her plan was foiled before it truly began. The heavy wooden door separating the hall from the common room was ajar. The only sound on the other side was an occasional pop from the dying embers in the fireplace. The room was much too dim for anyone to be reading in there. She slowly pushed the door open and peeked around the edge stealthily. There was no one about.

She crept into the room. The space was comfortable, decorated in the Hufflepuff colors of yellow and black. Different kinds of plants sat everywhere, courtesy Professor Sprout who was their Head of House. Rose liked Sprout well enough, but wasn't thrilled at being sorted to this house. She recalled the Sorting Hat's song. According to that, the clever, ambitious students went to Slytherin, the most intelligent to Ravenclaw and the bold and courageous to Gryffindor and Hufflepuff took "the rest." Sounded like a polite way of saying "the scrubs" to her. The Sorting Hat had taken several moments to deliberate but ultimately decided her current house would be best for her. Was it possible that the Hat finally made a mistake? And what did it mean in the long run? It felt like she had been judged and found lacking. Rose was a good student, but she could be better if only there was a way to end the daily torment. If all went as planned, it would stop soon, or at least be greatly reduced to more tolerable levels. A glance at the clock on the mantel showed that she needed to get moving.

A short staircase led upward. She stood there, gathering her nerve. The offense of being caught out after hours was much larger than it used to be. Now that the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Professor Umbridge, was also High Inquisitor the least infractions brought hefty punishments. Thankfully, she didn't have to go far, just across the hall, and it was only for a few minutes. If she'd been placed in Ravenclaw, it wouldn't have been necessary to leave their common room. But no, she lived in a basement (A basement! Not even a cool dungeon, like the Slytherins.) that was on the wrong side of the castle. At the top of the stairs she took a deep breath to steady herself. Right. It was time to do or die.

The entrance to their dormitory was down a hallway from the kitchen and hidden by a huge still life painting of a bowl of fruit. The painting swung outward and Rose glanced both ways, listening for any sounds. There was no one around, and that included Filch's cat. On the other side of the wide hallway, the huge, mullioned windows were open, letting in the cool night breeze and giving an unobstructed view of the sky. It wouldn't be long now. The girl zipped across the hall as fast as possible, feeling very vulnerable until she got to the other side where there was a suit of armor to squeeze partially behind and hide. The bundle previously hidden beneath her pillow was light in the pocket of her dressing gown. She removed it now. To the casual eye, it looked like a rolled up washcloth and nothing more. Unfolded on the wide stones of the windowsill, it revealed its contents: Quartz crystals and a brass hourglass filled with silvery sand. The crystals had no magical properties, not yet, but the hourglass was another matter. Rose pulled out her wand.

"Lumos," she whispered, and quickly checked the setting at the top of the hourglass. Inset into the top bracket were three brass wheels like those used in certain types of Muggle combination locks. In this case, the numbers represented minutes. The wheels were set to 007. Perfect. They were adjusted earlier but it never hurt to double check, and she was methodical that way. It would be pretty stupid to go to all this risk and then make a mistake like that. A true full moon only happened one night each month. If she screwed up, that would mean a wait until the next, and then what if it was cloudy that particular night?

She gave the wand a short flick and whispered "Nox," and the light went out. The quiet was oppressive. Rose repeatedly caught herself holding her breath as she tried to stay hidden in behind the suit of armor. At last she saw the full moon rising through the trees of the Forbidden Forest. When it cleared the forest and its beams shone down on the crystals, she quickly turned the hourglass over. Yes! Now all she had to do was wait the seven minutes then the worst would be over. She was focused on watching the hourglass and didn't notice a shape appear to materialize in the darkness behind her, that is, not until it spoke.

"And what is so important that you feel it necessary to break curfew, Miss Zeller?" Said a familiar, silky yet contemptuous voice.

Rose jerked around, barely suppressing a startled yelp, to see Professor Snape step into a bright square of moonlight. She felt that sickening sensation of her heart dropping into her stomach like at the initial moment when she'd thought she'd lost an important belonging such as a wand or a wallet, and then it was racing. Of all the people to catch her out, it couldn't get much worse than this. There wasn't a first year student in the whole school who wasn't scared half to death of the Potions Master.

"Well sir, I was…um," Rose said.

Snape tilted his head to the side slightly with an arch expression as watched her feebly struggle for a good answer. Finally his gaze shifted to the windowsill. He stepped closer for a better view.

"It appears you are creating the base ingredient for an overlooking potion. Why might that be?" He asked with malevolent curiosity.

"You see, Professor, I ," she began, fidgeting nervously and staring at the floor.

"Look at me when you speak, Miss Zeller," Snape interrupted.

He seemed ten feet tall as she peered up into his black, spiteful eyes. Her breath caught in her throat and her legs felt rubbery. This was horrible.

"I don't have all night," he said.

"Yes, sir, I _am_ making an overlooking potion. Because… because I…"

Snape said nothing but scowled impatiently.

Rose paused, trying to settle her nerves before continuing. "I am not very popular with my classmates, Professor, and I thought maybe it would be better if no one noticed me, or at least not as much."

"I see. You think it would be better to hide, then. Is that it? I suppose it _is_ easier than taking a stand." He didn't bother to hide his disgust.

How was she supposed to take a stand? Her magic wasn't that strong yet. She spent nearly all of her free time practicing and trying to learn new spells and techniques but against older kids, for instance the fourth year student who tripped her as she was coming up the stairs the day before, she wouldn't stand a chance. "Yes, sir, I think it would be the best thing for now."

Once again his gaze shifted to the sparkling quartz. "You do realize that while it is a relatively simple potion, any mistakes with the ingredients will result in a mild poison that makes the user violently ill for several days? And you have an excess of crystals here."

"I wanted extra in case I made a mistake and had to start over."

"Foresight," he said with a note of mocking surprise. "A rare quality among students, particularly first years."

"And also I can make more later without having to, er…."

"Deliberately flout the rules?"

Rose mentally kicked herself for bringing the subject back around to her misdeed. But then, this was Snape, and he wouldn't be thrown off the original topic that easily.

He didn't give her a chance to respond before continuing. "You will report to my classroom Saturday afternoon at one o'clock for detention and you will arrive prepared as though you are attending a regularly scheduled class."

"Yes sir."

With one more glance at the crystals, Snape turned and strode away, disappearing into the darkness of the hallway.

Rose leaned against the wall and breathed a sigh of relief. "Blimey," she whispered.

The sand was about to run out in the hourglass. The second it did, she flipped the edge of the washcloth over the bits of quartz. The rest was easy. It wasn't until she was safely back in bed that she realized how lucky she was. Yes, there was detention, but Snape hadn't confiscated her quartz nor did he deduct any points from her house. The latter was practically unheard of. Perhaps he didn't do it because there was no one there to either laugh at or be angered by her mistake. He would probably make up for it in the detention. Why would she need to be prepared as for class? Despite her fear of him, she enjoyed the subject of potions. Once she got over the initial shock of Snape's demeanor, she actually did fairly well. It wasn't difficult to figure out. One could lessen his sarcastic attacks by simply paying attention and doing the assignments correctly and having answers that weren't mere repetition of the textbook. It all came down to hard work.

She had witnessed his verbal shredding of her classmates who didn't seem to get the hang of things and he usually had a snide remark for the majority of the students regardless, but after the first couple of weeks, he didn't really have much to say to her. He prowled the classroom as they worked, stopping to check the students' progress and berate them for careless or sloppy work in that low, smooth voice, never shouting, which somehow made it worse. Now that she considered it, she remembered many instances where he passed by her workstation with his usual disdain but said nothing. He never openly praised anyone, but his silence was almost as good, because it meant he found nothing to ridicule. And if you could get through an entire class without giving him anything to complain about, it was a huge accomplishment. After mulling it over, Rose was more curious than anything else.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Saturday was gorgeous and most would have found it unbearable to spend the afternoon cooped up in a dungeon. Rose wasn't most. After a morning spent finishing up homework assignments and reading followed by a bolted lunch, she made her way down the stairs and corridor to the Potions classroom. The door was open and the only occupant of the room was a pug nosed boy with a morose expression. He turned to glance at Rose as she sat down at the opposite end of the row of desks, but said nothing and went back to his brooding immediately. A minute later, the door slammed closed and both of the children flinched. Snape walked to the front of the room with his standard purposeful stride and said nothing. There were students that likened his appearance to that of a bat, but Rose was put in mind of a huge stingray she'd once seen at an aquarium. She couldn't recall ever seeing him move as if he didn't have a million things to do and no time in which to do them. He went to a nearby cabinet and removed a large canister and a knife then carried it to the desk where the boy sat. It was obviously heavy because the table shook when he dropped it.

"This, Mr. Bryant, contains spike-tailed lake crawlers. You will remove their hearts and the spikes from their tails."

The boy, James Bryant, cautiously removed the lid and stared at the slimy, squirming contents within. There had to be hundreds in there. The smell hit him seconds later and he looked like he might be ill.

"All of them?"

"Yes."

"Could I have some gloves, Professor?"

"Why, whatever for?"

"You know, because of the slime. That stink won't wash off, sir."

"Actions have consequences, Bryant. Perhaps you should have considered that before you chose to cheat on your assignment last week." Snape turned his back on the boy and approached Rose. Was he was going to make her help…or do something worse? He placed a rolled up parchment in front of her, and walked back toward his desk.

"You will make three cauldrons of that potion, Miss Zeller, and be prepared to explain it afterwards. The ingredients are in the cupboard," said Snape.

"Yes, sir," said Rose as she unrolled the parchment and slowly read over the contents. The ingredients weren't too complicated, though she was going to have to carefully chop loads of dried stripewort. The combining and brewing were going to be the tricky parts. It would simply take focus. She could do that, and hopefully her potions book would give a clue as to what this was to enable an explanation of it.

The afternoon passed slowly. James had finished over an hour ago and left, flexing his hands repeatedly and holding them away from his body as if it would minimize the stench. Rose stood and gave each of the three cauldrons two counterclockwise stirs. The liquid was a deep bluish-violet color and thick like honey. The vapors weren't the most pleasant, but it was a lot better than the lake crawlers. Everything she'd used was in the book and she'd scribbled down several notes and had an idea of what it was and why it was concocted as it was. Now she had to wait while it brewed. Snape was behind the desk, still grading essays, his eyes flicking rapidly over the pages. Sometimes he scowled or curled a lip in disgust, but those sorts of reactions were the only ones she remembered seeing on his face, and not only now, but ever. No one had seen him smile, not once. His smirks got close sometimes, but that wasn't the same. It made it impossible to know what he was thinking.

She stood and turned off the flames beneath the cauldrons. A shadow fell across the desk. Immediately her heart started pounding. How did he get there so fast and silent?

Snape gave her a sidelong glance as though sensing her fear before picking up a long-handled spoon and inspecting the contents of the cauldron. The syrupy potion resembled nightfall made liquid when the light passed through it. Rose knew by now that it was a mild sedative but it was also used as a base for many things. Probably he was going to use it in his other classes, which would explain why he'd had her make such a big batch. She watched as he checked it thoroughly and braced herself for whatever came next. What would happen if she'd managed to do it wrong?

"Miss Zeller, what are the two most important ingredients of the seven?" Snape asked suddenly.

"Aconite and stripewort, sir," said Rose. He didn't have any complaints about it, evidently.

"Why?"

It would be much easier to answer if he'd stop staring like he was trying to make her spontaneously combust through telekinesis, but she met his gaze and replied.

"Aconite is the most active, but it's too strong by itself even in small amounts. The stripewort counteracts it."

"And why is there so much more stripewort?"

"Because its affects only work in large amounts against something that strong."

"Strength in numbers, Miss Zeller, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes sir."

"A concept that is useful in other applications, wouldn't you agree?"

Rose frowned slightly but nodded assent. What was he on about?

"Very well. Bottle this and clean up, then you are dismissed."

XxXxXxXxXxX

Rose considered the lesson for a couple hours after she was released but gradually forgot about it as the weekend progressed. Her overlooking potion was successful. It tasted vile but there was no arguing with the results. She took a spoonful every morning before going to breakfast and the effects were almost instant. It was great to be able to go where she wanted with no one making any snide remarks, no one hexing her simply because she was a handy target and no one tripping her or shoving her out of the way. It was about as good as being invisible. But…yeah, it was like hiding and she had as much right to be there as the rest of them. And the potion became less effective the more one used it. She couldn't stay out of sight forever.

With that in mind, she was making her way across the open square within the castle walls. Autumn days didn't come much finer than this and nearly half the school was outside enjoying the sunshine. That unfortunately included a gang of third year Slytherins who were making sport of a young first year Ravenclaw student. Rose watched as the older boys used a levitating spell to take the younger one's book bag and then upend it. Books and parchment went flying. It was unfortunate, but at least it wasn't her, Rose thought. She was about to get moving again when a velvety, dangerous voice spoke in her mind: _Strength in numbers_, it said.

Hmmm. Rose considered a moment, the beginnings of a plan in her head. She approached the boy and began to help him gather his things.

"What a bunch of prats," said Rose. "Does that happen a lot?"

"Thank you," said the boy as she handed him a couple of books. "It sure feels like it sometimes."

"I'm Rose Zeller, by the way."

"Alex Renfield," the boy said.

"Oh right. You and I are in the same herbology class. But… what I want to know is, how is your work in spells?"

"Fair, I guess," said Alex, looking at her curiously. They had gathered all his belongings and were now standing beneath an oak tree that had shed its leaves. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I have an idea," Rose said, jerking her head toward the kids who had moved on from harassing Alex and were just being loud and obnoxious now. "How would you like to make things more even?"

"It sounds good but, what kind of chance will we have against that lot?"

"Alone? None, but what if there were more of us?" Rose asked. Her sly expression reminded Alex of someone. He wasn't sure of who, but it made him uneasy all the same.

"What exactly did you have in mind?" He asked.

XxXxXxXxXxX

Professor McGonagall was having some suspicions. It wasn't anything terribly serious but she was curious nonetheless. A group of first year students from different houses had taken to hanging together in their own little pack. And it wasn't just during class. At dinner and during study periods they chose to sit together rather than with their own respective houses. It was as if they had formed a small fifth house. None of the other students appeared to pay them any mind. In fact she saw a few children go out of their way to avoid them. There had been a series of peculiar new jinxes and hexes appearing within the last couple of weeks. Were the two events related?

Three seats away, Snape was also observing, but with a certain feeling of satisfaction. He saw the way some of the others avoided the knot of young first years, watching them with uncertainty and, in a few cases, even fear. He knew all of them and the way they were considered to be the lowest of the low by their fellows. That was clearly changing. Perhaps no one thought that highly of them, but they were not allowing themselves to be pushed around any more. It was true that their methods of protection and retaliation were a tad underhanded, but it was effective. There was talk amongst the other professors regarding new hexes that were cropping up. Snape had listened to these discussions but offered no comment, knowing perfectly well the source of these issues. On more than one occasion he had witnessed two or three of the group simultaneously draw their wands and secretly place a jinx on a hapless, but likely deserving victim. And he knew who their ringleader was. Of course he did, hadn't he placed the idea with her himself?

He studied Rose closely. She was obviously happier. Snape didn't care one iota about the feelings of students as a general rule, but once in an extremely great while he found a child that he considered worthy of extra attention. The girl had talent and the potential for future greatness. And though he was loathe to admit it, despite the fact that it was the deciding factor in his actions, she reminded him a tiny bit of himself at that age.

Everyone was responsible for his or her own decisions in life, a lesson he'd learned in the most painful ways possible, but sometimes outside forces influenced them in ways one couldn't easily recognize. He saw no reason why he shouldn't intervene, but he wouldn't do it in an overt, coddling way. Absolutely not. Subtlety was a trait he possessed and appreciated in others, and if she had been so lacking in it to not recognize his hints, that would have been the end of it. But it wasn't and he was pleased to have been proven correct in his assessment. As she sat there, laughing with her newfound allies, she noticed him watching and favored him with a smile, the likes of which he'd never received from a student in his entire career and never would again. He didn't return it, but instead slightly raised an eyebrow and gave a nod that was nearly imperceptible before turning his attention back to dinner.

The end.

Author's note continued: I've only read all the books and seen the movies (except for the last two) within the last few weeks and of all the characters, Snape jumped out at me the most. I am one of those people who think he's mostly bad but not completely irredeemable. He's an interesting character what with all his issues, that's for sure. I hope to explore a few of those issues in the future. It's too bad he had to die. I would have liked to see what he would have done without the threat of Voldemort hanging over his head and without needing to protect Harry all the time. Anyway, thanks for reading.


End file.
